First rule of re-entry: do not talk about re-entry. I discovered that this morning.
On my second team, we had a rule that we couldn’t blog about any big issue unless we had already shared it with our teammates.
So it feels like cheating to be writing this when I can’t talk to them.
Anyways.
Culture shock is my drug. I love it. The beginning of a new month is my favorite part of the month.
Was my favorite. There are no more months. Well, there are, but they don’t mean the same thing anymore.
From the minute I landed in DC on the 22nd, I’ve wondered why I can’t cry. It’s always reason for concern when I’m not crying.
Then today at church I was hit with the obvious: I’m not crying because I’m not talking about it, and when I don’t talk I can’t feel.
I’ve talked about things that happened and different cultural fun facts. But I don’t talk about my friends or any people I met, or if I do, it’s in very emotionless, factual terms.
Until now I haven’t written a word, not in a blog, not even in my journal for only me to see, since five minutes before I landed in Columbia. About anything, much less about the World Race.
I don’t even think about it.
Right now I’m watching The Princess Diaries 2 and I had to close my eyes at the beginning when she’s on a plane. Because she was on a plane, and so was I a week ago.
I’ve spent most of my time this week watching movies, but only ones that I didn’t watch on the Race, and that don’t remind me of anything to do with the Race.
And forget about music. Music makes me feel things even if I’m avoiding songs that I don’t associate with any particular month. Feelings aren’t allowed. Drown them out with more TV.
I haven’t even consciously blocked it out. I didn’t realize I was doing any of these things until this morning when three things happened:
1. Everyone said “I’m so glad to have you home!!” And as much as I meant it when I said I was happy to see them too(I AM. I was bursting like Christmas morning all day, I LOVE these people who’ve poured into me since high school and kept me alive with their encouragement for the past eleven months, I am SO SO happy really and truly), I equally wanted to burst into tears.
Because I also desperately want to be with my squad.
2. One of my friends had just gotten back last night from a mission trip to Thailand. As much as I loved having someone who understood one of the places I’d lived and had been through culture shock and jet lag and fallen in love with people she had to leave, I also wanted to fall through the floor and disappear.
Because I still don’t understand how I feel about that month. I so equally loved and hated my time there and I haven’t had to try to explain it since the beginning of February. It annoys me that it was still the most emotionally difficult part of my Race.
3. Someone told me about this great site called rockyreentry.com to help me process coming home. As soon as I got back from church I looked it up, and as soon as I saw the home page I clicked over to Pinterest like a drowning man grabs for a life raft.
Because I don’t WANT to re-enter. I just wanna ENTER. I want everything to automatically be normal and great.
I know I know…this is not the same as when I went to Costa Rica. I was only there for eleven days and I came home to hopes and dreams and plans and friends.
This is the first time I’m finishing one season with no idea of the next. When I finished high school I walked straight into college. When I was too old to be a camper anymore I just started working at camp, and when I quit working it was only because I’d be on the World Race the next summer. And when I finished college, I didn’t mind having six free months because I knew I’d be launching at the end of them.
Then I stepped off my last plane and had no plans beyond tackling my mom and eating all the Chick-fil-A I could stomach.
And I can’t even eat like I used to. I think it’s partly because the Race made me not used to being able to go back for seconds, but mostly because my teammates aren’t here to make fun of my appetite and feed me their leftovers all the time. I’ve eaten like a football player my whole life, now I eat like a fish(I figure they eat less than birds do).
I have no conclusion yet except that I think this blog has been enough work on the hard stuff for one day; I’m going back into mindless Netflix surfing mode for a couple hours.
